


Precious Objects

by DefyingPopularity



Category: F. Scott Fitzgerald - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Midnight in Paris (2011), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefyingPopularity/pseuds/DefyingPopularity
Summary: This is a work in progress, and will possibly be a multi-chapter work! I do not have a summary yet!First Line: "I never thought I would meet someone like him."





	1. Paris - April 1925

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing for over 12 hours today to get this first chapter down, and I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I had this really vivid dream this morning in which these characters were featured. I woke up, gasped, and said, "I need to write this story!" I hope that you enjoy reading it! :) ~ DP

_April 1925_

I never thought I would meet someone like him.

I sat at my vanity of my parents’ home, touching up my make-up and fixing my hair piece. I had to look perfect. I was meeting the man my parents wanted me to marry. I adjusted my fasteners and stockings, slipping my black jeweled shoes on, smoothing out my emerald green dress. I looked myself over in the mirror once more, my dark brown hair pulled back into a bun and my green eyes sparkling in the light. I smiled softly to myself, and then I joined my parents downstairs with my brother and his wife in the parlor.

My parents were very important people. Researchers, travelers, archaeologists, whatever you would like to call them – that’s what they were. They traveled around the world, digging and researching stories of the Norse Gods and Goddesses. That meant that they traveled quite often to Norway whenever there was a new discovery. My father was a strict man, and whatever he said went. Tall, gaunt, and graying hair, he ran his fingers over his mustache and looked me over. His daughter had to be the perfect image to represent his family. He wore a tan suit with a brown tie, taking off his glasses and walking around me. I knew that in my mind, I looked perfect for my potential husband, this man that I had never met. However, my father would find a flaw. My mother was a small woman, sipping at her drink and standing beside my brother and my sister-in-law. She had blond hair, and didn’t see herself as fragile or an old woman. She still dug at the sites and worked tirelessly to preserve the artifacts that she and my father found that would be placed in the museums here in Paris. She was kind and taught me well; do not speak unless you’re spoken to, do not interfere in matters that are beyond your knowledge, and make sure that you keep your home to the upmost standards of the world. She was the perfect example of a 1920s woman, who also worked to support her family with her husband. They were a fantastic team. Unfortunately, they doted on my brother more than they did on me. He was the golden child of our family and could do wrong. He was married before me, and he was two years younger. It wasn’t right for a woman to be twenty-five and unmarried, according to my father. He finished his circle around me, and shook his head.

“That dress is the wrong color,” he told me, taking a cigarette out of his pocket case, putting it in his mouth and lighting it. “Go put the blue one on,” he instructed, blowing out a puff of smoke before looking to my mother, waiting for her to agree with him. She looked at him, shaking her head.

“George, she shouldn’t have to change,” she replied, looking me over and coming up to me, cupping my face in her hands. “This dress brings out the color of her eyes. Also, it is attractive on her, and we are already late for the party. Let her leave it on.”

My father sighed, putting out his cigarette. “What if he doesn’t like that her eyes are brought out by the color of this dress? She could lose out on being married for another five years.”

“Dad, she looks wonderful,” my brother, Theo, stepped in, moving towards my father and the door of our house, clapping a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I’m sure that Lilah will impress her gentleman, as well as every gentleman at the party. Have some faith in her.” My father sighed again, giving in and heading for the door, holding the door open for us so we could all go out into the cab together. My mother stopped me at the top of the stairs of our home, turning me around to look at her.

“Your father is very nervous about how this party is going to go,” she said to me, tucking back a loose strand of my hair and making sure it was pinned back. “This party will either make you famous or break your reputation all together, Lilah. Do not screw this up. Remember what I have taught you, and don’t let your tongue and passion on topics take over. Keep your emotions under control. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mother,” I replied simply, allowing her to walk down the stairs first before I followed behind, getting into the cab just before my father.

We drove down the streets of Paris and arrived at a home outside of the city, and I could hear the music just pouring out of the windows and open balcony doors. My father got out first, then helped me out of the cab. He pulled me aside when Theo got my mother and his wife out of the car, giving his wife and adoring kiss while my father spoke to me.

“This party is going to have some people here that are trying to become famous. Damn Bohemians. They are trying to impress my friend that you’re going to meet tonight. Stay away from them. They will only pull you in and if they like you, they’ll take you away from us, which will reflect poorly on me and you as well. Stay close to our end of the party. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” I replied simply again, then he planted a small kiss on my forehead, escorting me inside. The butler greeted us as beautiful music played in the parlor, several people from all walks of life. Authors, painters, singers, and musicians; anyone that you could think of was there, mingling amongst the wealthy and powerful. That was the wonderful thing about Paris. While my father didn’t appreciate the arts, everyone else did, and they didn’t mind sharing their interest with the people whose art made them happy. Father walked me to a man in a tuxedo, pulling away from me just for a moment to shake his hand.

“George, it’s wonderful to see you. Have you found anything more in Norway,” the man asked my father, smiling charmingly before he turned his attention to me. “Is this your beautiful daughter?”

“Yes, this is Delilah. We call her Lilah for short. Lilah, this is Lucien Rainier, the host of the party. You’ll be meeting his son later.”

_His son? You brought me here to set me up with a patron’s son?_ I kept the thought to myself and held out my hand for Lucien to kiss, and he offered me a charming smile as he glanced back at the parlor as a raucous song began and the people cheered, sighing softly. “The blessed artists of the Golden Age,” he said with a longing smile. “If only we could live like that. Wouldn’t you agree, Lilah?”

“Monsieur, I still dream that I could live like that,” I replied as I turned around, glancing at the party in the parlor, watching as the artists and musicians danced while the authors talked among themselves. I longed to be with them, dancing and drinking, not having a care in the world. Then, I saw him. I didn’t recognize him immediately so I had assumed that he was Lucien’s son, but I knew that I suddenly wanted to be close to this man that I saw. He stood tall beside the blond woman on his arm, wearing a gray suit and white shirt with a gold tie, with sparkling eyes and slicked light brown hair parted down the middle, drinking a scotch neat as he spoke to another author. He turned his head and his eyes locked on me. I felt my heart stop, and it seemed that his heart stopped as well. The music drowned out my father and Lucien talking for a few moments as this man and I continued looking at one another as the world fell away from us. Then, I felt a tug on my arm and I snapped out of my trance, turning back to Lucien and my father. “I apologize; I was lost in my own thoughts.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my dear,” Lucien replied, taking my arm and leading me away from my father and to the bar, his hand resting on mine. “Your father is old fashioned, but I can tell that you have a progressive thinking mind. You love the impressionists, don’t you?” When I nodded, he smiled. “I knew you would be perfect for my son. He’s a curator for the museum in London, and loves art. However, he always comes home to find the best artists that he can find. Now, you wait here, get yourself a drink, and I’ll go find him and bring him to you. Don’t run off now,” he added playfully, getting me to smile before I turned to the bartender, ordering a glass of red wine. He poured it and handed me the glass, a polite baritone voice speaking behind me.

“I was just telling Zelda that this party was starting to become boring and that we should leave,” the voice said, and I turned my head slightly, seeing the man in the gray suit and gold tie standing behind me from the corner of my eye. I turned my body around, looking up at him. That was odd. He had an American accent; Lucien was French. “Then, I saw you, and I suddenly felt compelled to stay.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to compel you to stay for long,” I replied honestly, my accent coming through slightly as I spoke to him. “I’m here to meet someone.”

“We’re all here to meet someone. Personally, I’m here to meet my next muse. You see, I’m a writer.”

“I see. The person I’m meeting is a man; a museum curator. I’ve never met him before tonight.”

“Ah, and is the man that you are here to meet someone that you hope to fall in love with? It is Paris, after all.”

“You’re being awfully forward. Who are you?”

The man gasped as he playfully acted offended, which caused me to giggle. “You don’t know who I am? I am shocked, Miss…?”

“Reynaud. Delilah Reynaud. Everyone calls me Lilah. And you are…?”

The man smiled and gave a slight bow, his blue eyes sparkling in the light as he came back up and looked at me. “Scott Fitzgerald,” he replied, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. So he wasn’t Lucien’s son, but at this moment, that didn’t matter. He was one of the most handsome men in the room. For the first time, I felt that I wanted something. I wasn’t sure if it was lust or love, but I wanted to be near Mr. Fitzgerald. It was at this moment that Lucien and my father came back over, bringing another man with them. Scott dropped my hand and took a step back, turning to Lucien. “Lucien, thank you again for having an absolutely wonderful party,” he said to him, and Lucien who was being a gracious host, shook his hand as my father pulled me to his side.

“Thank you, Scott,” he replied, turning to look at me. “It didn’t take you long to find one of the most beautiful women in the room. This is my son’s fiancé.”

“Ah, I see. I apologize,” he said and looked at me with an apologetic gaze. Meanwhile, on the inside, I was screaming at Lucien and my father. How dare they tell him that I was engaged to a man that I hadn’t even met?! I wanted to tell him that what Lucien said wasn’t true, and that I would be his muse if he had given me the chance. Sadly, he took a step away and said, “Well, I better get back to Zelda. I’ll speak to you soon.” He turned and walked back into the parlor, taking the blond woman that I took as Zelda back onto his arm, walking her away from my line of sight.

“Mr. Fitzgerald is a kind American novelist,” Lucien said to me, turning me to face my father and his son. “Unfortunately, he would’ve used you just in the same way that he uses all women who he seeks to be his muse.”

“And Zelda,” I asked curiously, looking at Lucien.

“Ah…Zelda is his wife.” Just like that, I felt my heart sink down into the pit of my stomach. Why would he act like that towards me if he was married? It didn’t make sense. “But enough of that for now. Lilah, this is my son, Tristan. Tristan, this is Lilah.”

I turned my gaze to Tristan, looking him over. He wasn’t as tall as Mr. Fitzgerald, but he was still handsome. He had his dark brown hair slicked back and had a moustache. He looked like his father, but his eyes seemed a bit harsher than his father and Mr. Fitzgerald combined. Tristan smirked and took my hand, kissing my knuckles as he looked me over, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Delilah, it’s so lovely to meet you. Hmm…your father’s description of you did not do you any sort of justice. Would you like to dance,” he asked as a slow song came on. I took a drink of my wine and set my glass aside, my father nudging me towards him. I took his arm reluctantly and allowed him to lead me to the parlor, moving his hand to my waist as we held our hands together and I moved my hand to his shoulder. He slowly danced with me while I looked around the room, looking for Scott and Zelda, but I didn’t see them at all. I began to worry, thinking that I had scared him off. “So, Delilah,” Tristan began, his fingers on my waist giving me a soft squeeze, feeling me to see how I felt. “Your father seems quite keen on the idea of us being together. It would be a fantastic business merger for our families. My father could keep your family’s adventures paid up, and they could go off exploring like they have been for years. While we...could spend our days in bed, and I have my way with you,” he said raunchily and quietly so no one else would hear, his hand sliding down from my waist and over my buttocks. I took a step away to put some space between us, but he pulled me back. This time, I was up against his chest and I could feel his body against mine. I hated this. I needed to get away.

“It’s Lilah,” I corrected him, shivering slightly as I felt his breath against my skin, trying not to breath in the smell of sour wine from his lips. I looked over his shoulder again, my gaze finding Mr. Fitzgerald again. He was standing against the wall, Zelda by his side. They were watching me as she smoked a cigarette, as if they wanted to see where this would go. “I barely know you, monsieur,” I continued and swallowed some, pulling my head back to look at him. “I believe that it would be better if we spoke for a while first before we jump into bed. Don’t you agree?”

Tristan looked down at me and sneered softly, raising his gaze as he danced with me. “All right, mademoiselle. I’ll tell you anything you would like to know after this song.” He held me close, tightening his hold on my waist and his grip on my hand slightly. I looked towards the bar area that was across the corridor for Theo, Lucien, my father, anyone to help me. There was no one, except for Mr. Fitzgerald, and he took Zelda’s hand and left the room again. I frowned softly, silently begging for anyone to help. This wasn’t right; I wasn’t meant to be bought and sold like cattle. I wasn’t meant to be a bartering tool for a deal for the museum that my parents worked for. I had to do something.

When the song ended, Tristan took me by the arm and escorted me out of the parlor and out to one of the balconies, allowing me to walk toward the stone railing. I took in the fresh air as he closed the doors behind him, hearing him walk up behind me. “Monsieur, I don’t know what my father or your father has told you,” I began, turning around to face him. “I just don’t believe that this is a good idea. I don’t believe that we would be a good match.”

Tristan didn’t want to hear a word of what I had to say. Before I could begin another set of words that I had on my mind, he pounced on me, pinning me against the stone ledge so hard that I grabbed onto it to keep my balance. His hands were all over me and when I went to scream, he latched his lips onto mine. I felt his palms grazing over my sides and cupping my breasts, causing me to whimper and pull away from the kiss, panting as I tried not to retch and vomit over the smell of his breath. He growled and pinned me harder against the ledge, causing me to gasp. “Don’t you understand what’s supposed to happen here, Delilah? You give it up, your father gets money. The marriage will happen, but it is just a cover for giving up his sweet, precious daughter. He’s given up on you a long time ago. Now…open your legs and give me what is going to be mine.”

I immediately froze. No, my father would not do this to me. I wiggled my hand free as he kicked my feet apart, drawing back and slapping him across the face. His head swung to the right and he growled, grabbing hold of my dress and tearing at the fabric. “Get off of me,” I screamed, kicking my knee up for a lucky shot and striking him right between his legs. He gasped and went down onto his knees, cupping himself before he fell to his side, moaning. I fixed my dress and ran for the doors, pulling them open and stumbling inside. The artists of Paris gasped and stepped back as I came in, calling for my father as I held my dress at the skirt where it was ripped. The music became quiet as I went into the room where my father had introduced me to Lucien, and I went up to him, grabbing his arm. He turned around and looked at me, setting his drink down and taking my arms, holding me up. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, Lilah,” he replied, trying to get me to calm down by rubbing my arms and hugging me, hushing me to quiet me down. “Darling girl, calm down. You’re making a scene.”

“I’m making a scene?! What about Tristan?! He tried to –“

“Delilah, stop talking right now. Listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. Just try again with Tristan. You’ll see; it’s a good match!”

“It’s not a good match,” I screamed, pushing away from him. By now, the music had stopped completely and the chatting had stopped. Mother and Theo came into the room, Theo keeping his hand on my mother’s shoulder to keep her away from me. My father just stood there, staring at me, his hands now at his sides. “He just tried to rape me! He said that this was all about money! Have you…have you given up on me?”

“Delilah…”

“Father, answer me! Have you given up on me?”

“Delilah, this is for the good of the family,” he replied calmly, taking a step towards me. “You need to do this for us.”

“No. No, I don’t.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no, Father! I’m allowed to say no! I refuse to marry a man like that! I want to marry someone that I love, not because you tell me to!”

Father drew back his arm over his chest and swung the back of his hand, connecting with my jaw and causing my head to whip to the side, making me stumble back and catching myself on the wall. When the slap happened, it caused the other guests to gasp aloud, but no one helped me. My mother gasped, wanting to come to me, but Theo held her back. I could feel my lip stinging and swelling as Lucien came to me, helping me to steady myself as I kept my back to my father. I pushed Lucien’s arm and hand away gently, looking back at him over my shoulder before I walked away, going to the door and going outside.

As soon as my feet hit the landing outside of the front door, I took off my shoes and began to run down the driveway, my father chasing after me and calling to me. I couldn’t be around him any longer. He was willing to give me up in order to have money for him and my mother. I made it a few feet from the house when I stopped, seeing just a few steps away, was Scott Fitzgerald. He was standing in the yard, smoking a cigarette and Zelda wasn’t anywhere in sight. He looked me up and down, frowning slightly as he laid eyes on my ripped dress. He tossed the cigarette and blew out the smoke he had inhaled, holding his hand out to me. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me, Lilah.”

“But I barely know you!”

“Delilah!” My father screamed, only a small distance away from us now. I knew that I would have to make a choice. I glanced back behind my shoulder and saw my father coming towards us, and then I turned back to Scott, who was still holding out his hand.

“We have all the time in the world. Come with me.”

“Delilah, stop,” my father yelled, causing me to look back over my shoulder. He stopped about a foot behind me, panting heavily. “Come back here this instant! You will obey me!”

I turned back to Scott and I ran to him, taking his hand. As my father began to walk towards us, I waited for Scott to pull me into his arms, leading me to his car that he had waiting. I looked up him and he grinned at me. It was a devilish grin similar to what Tristan had. I looked into his eyes as he held my hand, my look questioning the grin on his face. Then he said, “Darling, didn’t your father ever tell you not to run off with strangers?”

“What…”

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of green light. I withdrew my hand and shielded my eyes, the light blinding both my father and I. I opened my eyes and lowered my hand slightly, looking and watching as the green light was coming from Scott. I watched as the light faded from the top of his head, but as the light faded, I realized that this wasn’t Scott Fitzgerald. This was an imposter, a sorcerer of some sort. His face was the same as Scott’s but his skin was paler, and his hair changed from the slicked light brown to long, black hair. Half of it was braided back while the rest cascaded down his neck and to his shoulders. The gray suit turned to clothes I had never seen before. It was all in black with a green cloak and gold trim, and the cloak went all of the way down to the ground. My father lowered his hands as the light faded completely. This man stared at my father, reaching back behind him and pulling out a golden helmet with horns, putting it on. Who was this man? What happened to Scott? My father took a step back, the color fading from his face as he stared at this man. The man in the horned helmet reached out and took my hand again, pulling me against him so my back was against his chest, his arm wrapped around me tightly and holding my hand behind my back. I struggled and my father tried to approach him, and he wiggled a finger at him, shaking his head.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now, George. You owe me,” the man spoke in a low voice, causing me to gasp and wriggle against him. I couldn’t move! He was so much stronger than Tristan was. Even when he spoke, his accent was completely different! “You haven’t returned my pendent to me, and now I take what’s most precious to you.”

“Please…Loki, don’t do this.”

Loki? As in Loki, the Norse God and Trickster? What was happening?!

“I’ve given you plenty of time. Now, she is mine.”

“Loki, I’m begging you. Don’t take her!”

Loki grinned wickedly and stomped his foot, laughing as the bright green light appeared again. I was blinded and I couldn’t see, but I could hear my father screaming for me. I felt us disappear into nothing before I faded into unconsciousness.


	2. Welcome To Asgard

I didn’t know what had happened prior to when I woke up. All I could see was the blinding green light. All I could hear was my father, screaming for me. Then, I slowly remembered the events of the evening that led up to Mr. Fitzgerald turning into a God. A God whose story I had assumed was just that – a story. I could feel Tristan’s breath against my skin and his hands roaming over my body. I could hear Lucien’s welcoming and comforting voice and touch when my father had slapped me. While I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, my body and my hands became aware of my surroundings. My back was on the softest sheets and bed that I had ever felt in my life. One of my hands was resting at my side while the other was on my stomach, tangled in the fringe of my dress. My body became more aware, and I breathed deeply, slowly opening my eyes.

I was in a white room. All I could see was a white ceiling and walls. There was one wall, which looked like a large window, with gold lighting within it. What was this place? I slowly sat up and got a better view of the room that I was in. It had the bare furnishings of a table and a chair, with some books on the table. I swung my feet around to the side of the bed and set my feet on the floor, carefully pushing myself up. When I stood up, my legs trembled and I fell back onto the bed, finding that I wasn’t able to stand. Little did I know was that I was being watched from the other side of the golden window.

“You won’t be able to stand for a while,” he said to me, his voice cool and calm, with a slight hint of cruelty. The sound of his voice sent shockwaves down my spine and I straightened up, slowly turning my body so that I was back on the bed and I was able to see the window. He was there, standing with his hands behind his back. The helmet and the cape were gone, but his clothes hadn’t changed. It was the same clothes that I had seen back home. His hands moved forward, rubbing them softly as he watched me, speaking again. “You just traveled with me across the Nine Realms. It probably wasn’t the best idea for a Midgardian mortal, but I had to take what was mine.”

“Why…why have you brought me here,” I asked quietly, remaining on the bed since my legs were still trembling, holding the skirt of my dress where it had been ripped at Tristan’s hand so I could have a bit of modesty. “Where am I?”

“Welcome to Asgard, Lilah,” he replied with a soft grin, his eyes locking on me and holding onto my gaze. “The room that you’re in is your prison cell, and that’s where you’ll remain until your father comes through with his end of the bargain.”

“But…my father didn’t have a bargain with you. You’re not real. You’re just a story that he used to tell me as a child. This place is not real.”

Just as I said that Asgard wasn’t real, he appeared in front of me in the cell, standing only inches away from my face. I gasped and scrambled back on the bed, looking out at the window. He was still there, but he was in the cell with me as well. His double straightened up and moved his hands behind his back, and then it faded into nothing. “I think you can see now that this is, in fact, real. I am Loki, and I am a God. I’m only one of the many Norse Gods that your father has studied, along with your mother. Now, you are my prisoner.”

“But…I don’t understand. Why am I your prisoner? I haven’t done anything to you!”

“I’ve already explained that your father and I had a bargain. Do I need to go into more detail,” he asked with a slight annoyance in his voice, his gaze turning into an angry glare. “Your father has something of mine; something so valuable and important to me. It has been lost to me for years, and your father and mother found it. Or at least…they claimed that they had found it. I appeared to your father months ago, and asked that the item be returned to me. The bargain was this: he returns my pendant to me and I wouldn’t take the thing that was most precious to him.” Loki let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head. “Shame on him for thinking that I meant his wife.”

“You knew who I was at the party,” I said, my voice gaining a little more strength as I spoke. I forced myself to stand, my legs trembling with my weight, but I put on a brave face and walked towards the glowing window, looking at Loki. “How did you know who I was?”

“I’ve been in your house. I’ve seen your picture. The form of the American novelist that I embody is just one of my many forms, but your father has seen my true form. You just weren’t around at the time for you to meet me.”

“Loki, please let me go,” I begged, slowly dropping to my knees, my gaze in line with his. “I beg of you, please let me go home. I will find this pendant for you, and make sure it’s returned to you. All I ask is that you let me go. Please…”

“Darling…you’re going to have to pray to the Gods in order for that plea to be heard. You might as well get comfortable. You’ll be here for a while.” With that, he turned and began to walk away, leaving me alone. I let out a scream of anguish and fear as I began to cry, remaining on the floor in front of the golden window, holding my face in my hands.

* * *

 

I could hear her scream and all I could do was smile. Granted, Lilah may have been an innocent bystander in my plot, but her father needed to understand that I wasn’t joking around. I climbed the stairs of the dungeons, turning left and going into the throne room, where my mother and father were standing with my brother, Thor.

Thor wore his plated silver armor with a red cape, his long golden hair braided back on the sides and hanging down to his shoulders, and Mjolnir at his side. My father, Odin, was sitting on the throne, wearing his gold, kingly garb with the matching eye patch, holding his staff in his hand. Father had become so old and weak that he couldn’t take much more shock, so when he had seen that I had a Midgardian with me, he wasn’t exactly pleased. My mother, Frigga, doted upon me and figured that Lilah would be my bride. Her long blond hair was braided back and she was standing at the opposite side of my father from Thor, wearing a beautiful blue gown. Odin stood from the throne, taking a couple of steps down from there and meeting me at the middle of the stairs. I stopped at the foot, knowing that I shouldn’t approach any further.

“You brought a Midgardian mortal across the Nine Realms, and you didn’t think that there would be any repercussions for these actions,” he asked in a stern voice, keeping his eye on me.

“Father, it was part of a bargain that I had with her father. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Your choice was to leave her be and leave her on Midgard. What if she dies while she’s here? How are you going to explain that to her father?”

“Her father is the one who has betrayed my trust! He has the pendant that Sigyn gave to me!”

Odin straightened slightly at the name of my wife, letting out a soft sigh when he looked down at me, his son. He turned and looked to Frigga, then stepped back as he stepped forward. Frigga walked down the stairs of the throne, taking my shoulders in my hands and turning me towards her, making me focus on her now.

“Loki, this poor mortal girl needs to be returned to her father. We will get your pendant back, but you have to give us time. You know that your father can’t travel across the realms anymore, so we – you, Thor, and I – have to come up with our own plan. I know how much you miss Sigyn –“

“You don’t know, especially when the pendant has been lost to me for so long. I want it back.”

“You may get your pendant back, but nothing will bring Sigyn back.”

I stiffened at the thought, and I turned, walking away from my family. Sigyn’s death still bothered me, even though it was years ago. I still missed her. I went to my room and changed into the form of the novelist, using my powers to go back to Midgard. I returned to the mansion where the party was. Mostly everyone was gone, except for Lilah’s family who was speaking with Lucien. I spied from the open window of the study, seeing her father drinking another glass of scotch, her mother sitting on the couch with the brother and his wife, and Lucien leaning against his desk.

“Maybe we should call the authorities, George,” Lucien said, trying to be as sensitive and gentle as possible. “It’s been hours since she ran off. What if she was taken?”

“Lucien, I’m sure that Lilah is fine,” George replied nonchalantly, polishing off his scotch in one go. “She’s angry, and when she’s angry, she’s better off being alone. She always comes back, so I wouldn’t worry.” He set the glass down on the desk, going over to Delilah’s mother and taking her hand, helping her to stand, his son doing the same for his wife. “If she happens to come back here, will you call me?”

“Of course, but I really think you should stay here for the night, in case she does return.”

“But there’s always the possibility that she could be at home. Don’t worry, Lucien. She’ll come back.”

As they began to walk towards the front door, I ducked down into the shadows, listening as the door opened and the rest of Lilah’s family walked down the stairs and to their car. George shook Lucien’s hand, bidding him good night as Lucien closed the door and he walked the family to the car. “I’m going to go look once more before we go. Wait here for me.”

“Let me come with you,” Lilah’s mother pleaded, trying to get out of the car. George shook his head, putting his hands on her arms. “She’ll come to me if she sees me.”

“Elyssa, this is my fault. I need to be the one to find her.” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and then helped her into the car again, closing the door before he walked towards the trees, looking around for Lilah in the dark. I followed him silently and waited until he was deep into the woods before I made my presence known by clearing my throat. He stopped and slowly turned, seeing me in the form of the novelist and he shook his head. “Is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“No, but she’s someplace where you won’t ever find her,” I replied, taking my cigarettes and lighter from my pocket, slipping a cigarette into my mouth and lighting it. I inhaled and took it from my mouth, exhaling a puff of smoke. “It’s a shame that you don’t care about her more than what you do now, since she’s gone.”

“You weren’t supposed to take her. We had an agreement.”

“We agreed that if you returned my pendant to me that I wouldn’t take what was most precious to you. You didn’t uphold your end of the bargain. I could’ve taken your son, I suppose, but then his poor wife would be lost.” I put the cigarette to my lips again, inhaling and exhaling, tapping my finger on it to loosen the ash onto the ground when I removed it from my mouth. “And your wife…well, she reminds me of my mother, so sweet and caring. How would that be fair to you? No, I had to take her. I saw how you treated her, and especially that slap across the face. That was a nice touch.”

He snapped. He bolted towards me and grabbed me by the lapel of my suit, throwing me up against the tree with all of his strength. I laughed and tossed the cigarette, looking down at George as I saw the rage in his eyes. “Bring my daughter back to me, and you will have your pendant.”

“Be careful with your threats, George. If you kill me, you won’t see Lilah ever again.” He growled, slowly releasing his grip from my lapel and stepping back. I took a step towards him. “My powers and strength are beyond anything that you can comprehend with your small brain. You have one week to return my pendant to me, or Lilah will remain with me for the rest of her life. I’ll be checking in with you.” I stepped back again and used my powers, disappearing as quickly as I appeared and going back to Asgard.


	3. The Apple and the Dress

When I had returned to Asgard, I went straight to my chambers and went to sleep. The traveling across the Nine Realms had drained my energy and my powers, so sleep was the only way that I could regain my strength. I slept until my mother knocked on my door and came in, walking towards my bed and shaking my arm. I opened my lids, her face illuminated in the bright light of the daylight from the hallway. My room was darkened by the drapes pulled around my canopy bed and the drapes pulled closed in front of my balcony doors. “What is it, Mother,” I asked, rubbing my eyes tiredly before I sat up, staring at her. “Is there something wrong with Father or Thor?”

“No, my son, there is nothing wrong with your father or your brother,” she replied as she pushed my hair from my eyes. She did this for me whenever I was little and she needed to talk about something serious, or whenever I was in trouble. “However, there is something wrong with your prisoner. She is weak; do you know when the last time she ate was?”

I stared at my mother with a cocked eyebrow, sitting up a bit more and planting my hands on the mattress. “What does that matter?”

“What does…? Loki, I’m so disappointed in you,” she said, standing up from the bed quickly and folding her arms. “She is your prisoner. Even when your father put you in the dungeons, he made sure that you were cared for. She has no clothes, no food… Loki, if she isn’t cared for, she will die down there. Your father even said that she was your responsibility since you took her from her father. So, it is time for you to be responsible now. Keep her alive until you get her back to her father, and that means feed her and get her some damn clothes!” She yelled the last part before she stormed out of my room, slamming the door shut and leaving me alone in the dark. I lay back down in the bed, staring up at my darkened ceiling and running my hand through my hair. What did my mother know about keeping people alive? Well, except me. She was the one who cared for me when I was in the dungeons, not my father. I sat up again and swung my feet around, setting them on the floor and standing up and walking across the room, pulling open the drapes of my balcony doors.

From the light that shone through the large glass doors, it was the middle of the afternoon. She had been in my custody for almost a day, had traveled across the Nine Realms, and I had her in a dungeon cell. Did I feel bad for keeping her locked up? Not in the slightest. But with Mother reminding me that she was a mortal woman and did need nourishment did make my heart twinge a bit. Not much, but slightly. I opened the balcony doors to let some of the fresh Asgardian air into my room before I snapped my fingers and I was in a fresh change of clothes, my long hair slicked back and tied, unbraided like the night before. I decided to go down to the dungeons to see Lilah and to check to see if she was fairing so poorly. I left my room and took the long way down the stairs to the dungeons, standing at the foot of the stairs and looking at her from a distance.

Lilah was there in her cell, the same place that I had left her. She was sitting on the floor, her long brown hair now taken down from her bun and her hair piece setting on the floor beside her leg. She had stopped crying, but she was rocking back and forth, fiddling with her torn dress at her thigh. I pursed my lips and observed her, pondering over why she was so distraught with being taken away from her father. Everyone had witnessed her father slap her for her defiance over the marriage to the brute that was Lucien’s son. I wondered why she wouldn’t want to leave, and be out on her own. I held open my hand and conjured an apple, a plump, deliciously sweet Fuji apple, and in my other hand, I conjured a violet Asgardian dress that was floor length and sleeveless. It was something that I thought that she would enjoy, even though I was sure that she wouldn’t put it on. I walked towards the cell and went around the back, using the hidden door to go inside. I stood in the white room with her, keeping my distance. She was humming quietly, murmuring a children’s lullaby in French to keep herself from being frightened. She stopped as she sensed the other presence in the room, and then slowly turned towards me. Gasping frightfully, she cowered and scurried near the golden cell window, crouching and curling her head into her knees.

* * *

I didn’t know what had come over me. For hours, I had been sitting on the floor, crying and begging to just go home to my family, and to my father. The cries fell into nothing but silence and being ignored. I held my dress together and cried, feeling weakened and hungry. There was only one person who came to see me in my prison was a woman in a blue gown with long blond hair. She didn’t speak to me; she only looked at me, observed me and walked away after about five minutes. I know that my gaze had to say “help,” but she only watched me and walked away, never saying a word. After she walked away, I began to cry again, thinking that the mysterious woman was my only way to get home besides my captor. And on some level, I knew that he would never release me. More time had passed. I wasn’t sure how long, but I sang a French lullaby to myself to soothe my feelings of anxiety and fear, I felt a presence in my cell. I slowly turned, and he was there.

I gasped and scurried away from him, going as far away as I could. I cowered by the post of my bed and hid my gaze from him. I was still unsure of his powers and what he could do, especially since a double of him appeared in my prison cell. I heard his footfalls step closer towards me, then stop. His breathing was quiet, slow and even. I could almost sense a slight hint of patience with it. He waited until I brought my head up, then he moved closer to me. He moved around the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor in front of me, my eyes not leaving him for a moment. I looked in his hands, noticing the apple first. My mouth began to water as I stared at it silently, wondering if he had only brought the piece of food in order to tease me in what I didn’t have. He noticed my gaze and opened his fingers that were around the apple, slowly moving his hand towards me. I looked at him, then at the apple, and softly asked, “What is that for?”

“My mother reminded me that you are, indeed, a mortal Midgardian and that you need nourishment from time to time,” he replied, his voice soft but without a hint of kindness. He was only doing this because his mother, the woman who had observed me, had said something to him. Knowing him, the apple was probably poisoned or a hallucination, just like he had been once. “The apple is for you,” he continued, his voice gaining a bit more volume. “Take it and eat it, Lilah.” When I didn’t immediately respond, his lips became thin and his jaw clenched slightly. “It wasn’t a request. It was a command. Take it and eat it.”

I swallowed and slowly took the apple in my hand, turning away from him and keeping my back to him slightly. I glanced back before I bit into the apple, eating it down so quickly that soon, I was nibbling what I could from the core. I slowly turned my head, and he was still there, watching me. I realized that I had turned into a nearly feral-like animal, all after a day of not eating. I lowered the core from my mouth, watching it as Loki flicked his wrist and made the core disappear from sight. I closed my hands and opened them on the slight off chance that it would appear again, but it was gone. I remained in my place on the floor as he stood up from his place where he had knelt before me, laying out a dress on my unmade prison bed. I slowly stood and leaned against the wall, keeping my gaze on him as he silently smoothed out the dress and turned to me once more, his face serious and his icy stare looking into my very soul. There was one thing that came to mind, and that was my father. I wondered if this mysterious person – no, God – had spoken to him since he had left me alone the night before. I had no idea what time it was or even if Loki had left Asgard since my arrival. Or capture.

“Have you…have you seen my father,” I asked quietly, not moving from my spot on the wall, keeping my eyes on him and he was doing the same to me. “Have you spoken with him? Is he angry at me?”

He straightened his back some and stalked towards me like an animal stalking its prey, moving one hand to the side of my head and pressing it against the cool wall. He was only inches from me now, and I was looking up into his blue eyes. He was scanning me, looking me over with a deep concentration. I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his eyes were, and how much they reminded me of how the glistened the night before, when he was the American author that I met at Lucien’s house. That illusion seemed like a dream now, just as this prison cell seemed like a dream. I reminded myself that this God of a man would not be interested in a mortal like me, and I shouldn’t become too distracted by how truly beautiful he was. His creamy, smooth, pale face was white as the snow, and his raven colored locks slicked back and unbraided looked so soft that I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through it. He continued to stare at me, studying me, and then he asked, “How can you care so much for a man who treats you so poorly?”

“How can I…He’s my father,” I replied, almost frustrated that he could’ve asked me such a question. “He didn’t want this to happen to me. He loves me, and I know that he wants me home.”

“On some level, I suppose that he does,” the God replied, slowly lowering his hand from the wall and stepping back away from me. “And since you’re so curious about him, I will tell you about him. I went back to Midgard after I left you last night. He asked me if you were dead, and I told him that you weren’t. But you’re in a place that he will never find you. I also gave him one week to return the pendant to me or he would never see you again.”

I swallowed at the thought. A week to find the pendant and return it to Loki, or I would never see my family again. Then, the question raised in my mind was if my father would live up to this bargain, unlike the last one. My eyes fell on the dress that was on the bed, and taking a breath, I walked past Loki and went to the bed, my hand running over the dress. It was made of the most beautiful fabric that I had ever seen. It almost seemed to shine in the bright room, and it was a lovely shade of violet, my favorite color. How could he have known that? I could feel Loki’s eyes studying my movements as I picked up the dress, holding it against me to see if it would even fit. I wondered if this was his idea or if it was his mother’s, and as if he read my mind, he spoke again. “That was also Frigga’s idea. She said that you should have some clothes. I suppose that she isn’t wrong, since your dress is ripped. Although, I wasn’t sure about the color, so violet was the first one I could think of.”

“It’s my favorite color,” I replied softly, spinning in a circle as I gazed at the gown. “I suppose that I should say –“

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” he said coldly, walking past me and going towards the door again. “Remember that you are still a prisoner, and as long as you’re in this cell, you won’t leave.” When he got to the door again, he turned towards me, his voice and gaze still cold. “Make sure that you have that on when I come back later to check on you. If you don’t, you won’t get dinner tonight either.” With that, he turned and left the cell, the door closing behind him with a slam. I watched from the glowing window as he walked out of the dungeons, thinking about how he was so puzzling. He could show a hint of kindness, but still remain as cold as he was when he appeared in front of my father and I. Once I was sure that he was gone, I laid the dress back down on the bed and began to remove the ripped dress that I had worn to the party. I unzipped the back and let the dress fall, sitting on the bed and unsnapping my fasteners, rolling my stockings down and off of my feet. Soon, I was naked, having removed my undergarments as well, and I was pulling the dress over my head. I pushed my arms through the straps and adjusted them as I tightened the ribbons, struggling as I tried to tighten the corseted back. I heard the door open and I stopped and turned, holding the dress up as I expected Loki to walk in. Instead, it was the blond woman that I had seen earlier that he said was his mother. She walked in and left the door open, coming over and gently turning me around, working on the ribbons and tightening them.

“My son…always the gentleman, no,” she asked, pulling the ribbons as I held my hair out of the way for her. I felt the dress tighten to my form, remaining quiet as she continued to speak. “I know that he only fed you an apple. An apple won’t sustain you for long. In my opinion, you don’t deserve to be a prisoner. I know that you were taken from your father for his pendant, but you’re a kind and gentle soul. I think you could bring my son out of the darkness that he has been in for some time. Since Sigyn died, he has never been the same.” She lowered her hands after she had finished tying the ribbons of the dress, turning me around to face her. She smiled as she looked me over, admiring the gown on me. “He chose well.” She turned and walked away from me, heading to the door of my cell again. I didn’t understand what she meant when she said that I didn’t deserve to be a prisoner. I also didn’t know who she meant by Sigyn. Was that someone that Loki was close to? A sibling, or possibly a lover? Frigga took notice when I didn’t immediately follow her, stepping out of the open door and turning around, still where a soft smile on her face.

“Well, are you going to follow me or would you rather stay in a cell for the next week?”

My eyes widened, and I looked around the cell. I realized that she was trying to help, and without hesitation or my tattered clothes, I walked towards Frigga and I followed her out of the dungeons. I didn’t know where we were going, but as long as it wasn’t my cell, I didn’t care. She waited until I was with her, and together, we walked out of the dungeons and to the palace halls.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say, except for thank you, madam,” I said softly, moving my hands in front of me and folded delicately. “I honestly thought I was going to die down there.”

“Loki wouldn’t have let you die. For some reason, you’re valuable to your father, but I think you’re valuable to Loki as well.”

“I’m only meant to be used as a bargaining chip,” I repliedy, thinking about how my father was trying to sell me off to Tristian for the sake of his adventures with my mother. “In Paris, apparently, I’m nothing more than that.”

“I see more than that in you,” Frigga said, leading me up a set of stairs to another part of the palace. The light was becoming brighter and more natural when we reached another corridor. I could smell spices and foods I had never smelled before. It was intoxicating. “I see someone who cares for those that she loves, and would do anything to protect them. I see that you’re gifted, but you hide your talent. Your family…they don’t care for artists, do they?”

“My father doesn’t.”

“Just because your father doesn’t care about something doesn’t mean that you should give up on your hopes just for his sake. What a parent should want for their child is for them to be happy. Ah, here we are.”

Frigga brought me to two tall double doors that were closed, and then she turned to me, cocking her head to the side. “Hmm…” she waved her hands and my long hair suddenly disappeared from my shoulders and was braided and curled just like hers was. She smiled, proud of the work that she accomplished with me. “Now, I’m going to take you into the great hall for dinner. Are you ready?”

“What in Hel is this?!”

I whipped around, the gown’s skirt flowing as I had turned my body, coming face to face with Loki as he walked towards us. Then, he saw me and he froze in his place. Just like it did at the party, the whole world stopped and we were the only ones in the corridor.


End file.
